


Never Really Apart

by svana_vrika



Category: Free!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Conversations, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Tokyo (City)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/pseuds/svana_vrika
Summary: Something is going on with Haru beyond being drained from the multiple races. Makoto does what he does best when he learns what it is.





	Never Really Apart

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an original work of fan-fiction. The Free! franchise and its characters, props and settings are the intellectual property of Masahiro Yokotani, Kyoto Animation and Animation Do. I just borrowed them for a bit of entertainment. No copyright infringements are intended, and I will make no profit from their use. 
> 
> Work is unbetaed.

The doors slid shut on the train and Makoto silently sighed his relief. He was ecstatic that the day had turned out as it had, but it had been long, and emotionally charged, and he was glad it was over. He glanced at Haru, who—at Makoto’s insistence—had taken the remaining seat. He’d been quiet since they’d left the stadium, even for Haru: the quiet that told Makoto that Haru was overloaded, that he was physically and mentally drained. Makoto wasn’t surprised. The day had been harder on Haru than anyone else as Haru had done what no one else could have. He’d brought Ikuya back to their fold. 

Protectiveness swelled through Makoto as he thought about everything Haru had taken onto himself: the guilt, the burden of finding _some way_ to fix things, the physical strain and the toll on his sleep and study schedules. He loathed when he’d hear talk about how cool and unfeeling Haru was. It wasn’t true. Haru felt deeply and had a large heart, especially for his friends and family. He didn’t wear it on his sleeve like Makoto and Asahi did, but he was just as loving and loyal. There wasn’t a thing Haru wouldn’t give for any one of them. 

Letting it go, Makoto worried his lip as he studied Haru. For all intents and purposes, Haru looked as he always did. Quiet. Collected. Beautiful. But there was a particular pallor to his skin, a certain set to his eyes and mouth that spoke the truth: tells regarding Haru’s mental and physical state that he’d carried since boyhood. Haru’s own parents likely wouldn’t even have picked up on them, but Makoto knew. Because Haru spent more time with Makoto than with anyone. Makoto’s forehead wrinkled. And even that wasn’t a lot lately. Today had been a perfect example. Between the commute, the competitions, and then hanging out after, the moments he’d spent with Haru after they’d finally gotten to speak to Ikuya had been their only time alone. The frown between Makoto’s brows deepened. He knew it would get worse before it got better, too. After all, they weren’t even a full year into their college careers. 

Giving himself a mental shake, Makoto pulled his thoughts back to the issue at hand: a tired, and emotionally drained, Haru, and what he could do to help. At one time, Makoto would have stressed about even being there; about if he was wanted. It wasn’t because he’d ever thought that Haru didn’t care about him, but Makoto knew that, sometimes, Haru needed to be _alone_ —that solitude, and the water, was how Haru recharged. These days, however, he didn’t worry about that. They’d both matured as their relationship had and, through it, they’d rid themselves of many insecurities. Haru knew now that Makoto was fine if he slipped off to be alone; that Makoto understood why. And Makoto realized that it wasn’t anything against him when Haru did so. They’d found their balance, together, as always. But there were other things he could do to take care of Haru beyond just giving him his space: obvious things, like taking care of dinner, and then things he could figure out through Haru’s cues once they got home. Which, tonight, would be Haru’s apartment. 

By the time the train stopped, Makoto had a loose plan and, as they exited, he discreetly touched Haru’s hand and then smiled. “Let’s do delivery tonight, Haru-chan. Nothing heavy, since it’s late, but something nice, and then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning?” 

“Mm.” 

Haru smiled slightly with the affirmative but, as he turned his gaze forward, Makoto’s brow furrowed slightly again. He’d expected more of a response, at least a grouse against the nickname or a half-hearted push for his beloved mackerel and rice. Haru was never too tired or stressed out for that, and he felt a niggling of concern. Something was going on beyond being drained from the physical and emotional output. Something was on Haru’s mind, too, and he wondered what, even as he knew that Haru would share in his own time. 

Nothing else was said on the short walk. That Haru didn’t question his lack of chattiness further convinced Makoto that there was something going on; however, when Haru accepted Makoto’s embrace once they got inside, Makoto let the anxiety fade again. “Haru-chan was amazing today,” he praised, and then he kissed Haru softly. Haru returned it and then took control of it; Makoto’s breath caught in surprise, blush quickly rising, as Haru licked into his mouth slow and deep before easing away to tuck his head into Makoto’s neck.

“Haru.” Makoto’s soft chuckle shifted to a low, contented sound as Haru’s fingers played through his hair. Apparently alone-time wasn’t on Haru’s agenda tonight, and Makoto was fine with that. He would have been content to give it to him, but it felt more like he was helping when he was actually doing something. Resting his head against Haru’s, he lightly ran his hands up Haru’s back and then over his shoulders. There was definitely more tension than usual: likely a combination of the extra race, the still-unfamiliar strokes and the emotional build up and release through the day. “Let me give you a massage?” Makoto brushed a kiss over Haru’s lips and he smiled when, as they parted, Haru nodded. “Okay. Go lie down. I’ll get your bath heating up, and I can order dinner once you’re in the tub.” 

“Alright.” 

But Haru didn’t drop his embrace; instead, he leaned up and took Makoto’s mouth again in another impassioned kiss. Makoto’s breath softly caught again as that blush returned, though his surprise somewhat curtailed those other emotions. It wasn’t that Haru wasn’t demonstrative with his affections. Once in the privacy of their own space, Haru was, delightfully so, and it still took Makoto’s breath away, still made him feel all that giddy happiness and wonderment and want that had rushed him several months ago in his then-vacant apartment when he’d learned that Haru loved, and wanted, him back. It was just unexpected behavior for what he’d discerned on the train and, as Haru released him so that they could take off their shoes and coats, Makoto lightly sucked on his lower lip and wondered if it was because of this _thing_ on Haru’s mind, or because he was still learning Haru’s cues when it came to the physical intimacy and sex. 

“Makoto.” 

Makoto started. _You’re thinking so hard that I can hear you,_ that particular tone said, and Makoto chuckled sheepishly. “Ahh, sorry, Haru.” He hung up his coat and then turned for the bathroom; Haru grabbed him by the wrist and he stopped. “Haru?” 

“There’s a training camp.” Makoto fully turned. He knew that tone too; knew the slight lift at the end of the sentence that spoke of something Haru felt conflicted about, but that needed to be shared. “For the All-Japan team and by invitation only.” 

Makoto gasped softly with the rush of elation that flooded him and he couldn’t hold back his smile. He didn’t need Haru to say anything more. He _knew_. “Haru!” Laughing softly, Makoto pulled Haru close and held him tight. “Haru, that’s incredible! I’m _so_ proud of you!” 

“Makoto!” 

“Ahh, sorry!” laughing again, he eased up on his hug and beamed down at Haru but, after a second or two, that hint of a furrow returned. Haru was smiling, too, a real one, but there was still something behind it, something telling him it hadn’t been the announcement that had been occupying Haru’s mind. Swallowing against the prickle of worry, Makoto gave Haru a gentle smile as he lightly caressed the barely-there tension at the corners of Haru’s eyes. “Go on and lie down,” he encouraged again. “You can tell me more while I’m massaging.” 

Haru didn’t stop him this time; he just nodded. As he turned, Makoto’s smile faded as he padded into the bathroom. Haru should be elated. This was a huge, prestigious thing, a significant step toward assuring his position on the global stage. So, why wasn’t he? What was holding him back?

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a lot of time for contemplation. It only took a minute to set the heater and make sure everything was ready, and then he stepped out to join Haru. His gaze drifted to the bed and his expression softened. Haru had stripped down to his boxers and was laying on his stomach, eyes closed, head pillowed on his arms. For a second, Makoto considered leaving him to see if he’d doze, but then Haru’s eyes opened; Makoto smiled and went to kneel at the side of the bed. Dipping his head, Makoto brushed a kiss over Haru’s lips, and then he straightened and brought his hands to Haru’s left shoulder. “You really were incredible today, Haru,” he murmured as he began to work the muscles there. “You swam those strokes like you’d been competing in the IM as long as Ikuya. But then, you’ve always been a quick study.” His smile widened slightly. “And you had a good coach to help you.”

“Mm.” Haru’s affirmative slightly drew out at the end as Makoto’s fingers stroked across to start on his right shoulder. “Azuma is good,” Haru continued quietly. “I could tell in my first race the difference that working with him had made, and we hadn’t even been focusing on my free. When I found out about the invitation, I knew I owed it, in part, to him. It made me wonder how much more I could improve if we _did_ focus on my crawl, so I asked him if he would work with me officially. He agreed.” 

“I’m glad, Haru.” Makoto was working both shoulders now, and he gave a pleased sound of his own as some of the tension eased. “He’s a bit eccentric, but you seem to work well together. And I’m so happy that someone with his experience and reputation recognizes your talent.” He smiled a bit. “My Haru-chan really will belong to the world one day,” he said lightly as he started to work his way toward Haru’s spine, and then he pulled back in surprise when Haru abruptly turned over and sat up. “Har—" 

Makoto’s eyes went wide when Haru’s mouth cut him off as Haru’s hands cupped his cheeks. The kiss was hard, and deep, and over before Makoto could register what was happening and, as Haru eased back, he looked at Haru in bewilderment. “I’m only ever Makoto’s,” Haru declared to the silent question. 

Makoto blinked, and then a wide smile curved his lips as he softly laughed at Haru’s petulance. “I know that, Haru,” he said warmly, bringing his hands up to cover Haru’s and ease them down. Kissing each set of knuckles, Makoto released Haru’s left and, keeping hold of his right, joined him on the bed. “Haru, what’s going on?” he asked softly. His lips pressed slightly when Haru turned his head way; taking hold of Haru’s chin, he gently drew his gaze back. “Haruka? You’re worrying me,” he admitted as he let go to run his knuckles gently along Haru’s cheek. 

“It’s stupid.” 

Makoto’s brow arched. “It’s not if it’s got you this upset,” he argued gently. “Tell me. Please?” 

Haru huffed and Makoto waited. “Camp starts the day after tomorrow and runs until the meet,” he eventually spoke. “Check-in’s tomorrow afternoon; I’m meeting Azuma at the station at one. It’s not all _that_ far away, but Makoto, entry’s restricted. There will only be a couple of friendly races open to the public.” 

“Oh.” For a moment, the revelation sat heavily on Makoto’s chest. The All-Japan was nearly four weeks away and, with the restrictions… His heart tried to clench tighter as the impact of what that meant hit, but Makoto swallowed against it and tightened his hold on Haru’s hand. “That’ll be new for us,” he said with a slight smile, but then he sobered and held Haru’s gaze. “But it’ll be okay.” 

“I know.” Makoto arched a brow at the impatient tone and Haru gave a slight “Tch. That’s why it’s stupid,” he continued, and Makoto realized then that the irritation had been self-directed, and not at him. “I know it’ll be fine. But then I think about how we’ve never been apart for more than a few days and, even then, I hated it, and that was well _before_ we realized we were in love, before we started being intim—Makoto, why are you laughing?” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Makoto murmured through the last of his chuckle and he tipped his head to offer an apologetic kiss. Haru turned away and Makoto softly sighed. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Haruka. I was laughing because I had similar thoughts earler. When you shared yours, I thought about how close and connected we really are, and it made me happy.”

“You’re weird.”

“Haru!” Makoto broke into another soft laugh, Haru’s declaration accompanied by a slight, but affectionate, smile and, this time, when he dipped his head for a kiss, Haru didn’t turn away. “I’m sad, too,” he shared after as he lightly brushed his fingers through Haru’s bangs. “I’ll miss talking to you and studying with you, and it’ll be hard not being able to touch and kiss you for so long now that I finally can. But it _will_ be okay. We can still talk every day, and I’ll come and see you when I can. And I’ll be at the meet, of course. Besides, we’re never really apart, Haru-chan, even when we are, ‘cause we have each other’s hearts, ne?”

“Makoto.” Makoto’s face warmed at the wonderment in Haru’s expression but, before he could ask what it was about, Haru nodded with a soft, “Mm,” and finally, _finally_ , that tension left Haru’s eyes. “Thank you.” 

Makoto made a soft, negatory sound as he shook his head, but then he chuckled when Haru arched a brow. “You’re welcome,” he corrected and, still smiling, he brushed his fingers through Haru’s fringe again, and then down his cheek. “L—” he started, intending to encourage Haru to lie back down for the massage, but then Haru kissed him again, arms slipping around his neck. Makoto smiled gently against Haru’s mouth before returning the embrace. He could feel Haru’s relief in the kiss, as he had the desperation in the others before and when, after a moment or two, Haru released him to lie back down, Makoto carded through his hair. “It’ll be okay,” he promised again, kissing Haru beneath his ear before he straightened to resume the massage. It would be difficult. Especially this first time through. But they’d adjust to it just as they had everything else, and they would find their way through it together.

**Author's Note:**

> My intent, when I started this, was for a NC-17 fic, but the boys didn't want to play that way so I left it for a while. When I came back to it, I decided that I liked where they had taken me and, with assurance from [benicemurphy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benicemurphy), I left it be. I hope you enjoyed the read as much as I did filling in this little missing scene!
> 
>  _ETA_ : timeline and distance were calculated based on what I could piece together from the episodes, so apologies if they end up being off!


End file.
